


blood into water

by Molly_Hats



Series: The Adventures of Undead Detective Bette Kane [3]
Category: Batwoman (Comic), Detective Comics (Comics), Gotham by Midnight (Comics), Spectre (Comics)
Genre: 10 Plagues, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Case Fic, Cruel and unusual death, Gen, Mystery, Spectre is involved what'd you expect), rated for language, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-03-07 03:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18864685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molly_Hats/pseuds/Molly_Hats
Summary: Detectives Lisa Drake and Bette Kane of the GCPD 13th Precinct Details Division are called in to investigate a pond that seems to have turned into blood.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flamebirds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamebirds/gifts).



It was a regular day in the Gotham suburbs: the sky was overcast, the birds were ominously quiet, and a couple of GCPD detectives were investigating a bizarre crime. The one unusual thing was the pond the detectives were eying suspiciously. 

“So, as far as the locals know, Adams Pond has never spontaneously turned into blood,” Detective Bette Kane said. “We got the results from the lab techs back yet?”

Her partner and senior officer Lisa Drake nodded. “It’s human.”

“Fuck. Is it all from one person? Do we know who?”

“We need to do a lot more tests. We don’t even know if it’s all blood or mostly water.”

Bette scooped up a small, flat stone from the shore. 

“What are you--?”

Bette wound back her arm and sent the stone into the pond. It skipped once and sank.

“Kane!” Lisa said, a warning creeping into her surprise as Bette leaned down to collect more stones.

“I’m doing something.” Bette said. “Trust me.”

She sent a second stone skipping. This one also bounced only once. So did the third and fourth.

Bette handed Lisa the final stone. “You try.”

“Kane, this is not the time to skip rocks!”

“Come on. I’m testing something out.”

Lisa sighed and tossed the final stone, which dropped immediately to the bottom of the pond.

“Your point?” Lisa said, turning back to her partner.

“Normally I can get a few skips. Blood’s mostly water, so it dissolves in it, but it’s also got a lower surface tension. Therefore, in my expert opinion…” Bette paused dramatically. “...that’s a lot of blood. Mostly blood.”

Lisa briefly reconsidered every decision she had ever made that had led her to this point.

“Come on. We should get samples from around the pond, maybe check the locals again,” Bette continued.

“I’m the primary on this case, Kane,” Lisa warned.

“Right. Sorry. Got excited.”

* * *

“Here,” Bette said about an hour later, holding up a cooler. “Got samples from the middle and other edges of the lake at different depths. Labelled, obviously.”

“Good. Let’s get back to the lab,” Lisa said, holding her own cooler.

In the car, Bette let almost two whole minutes go by before speaking. “Hey, Drake, you ever seen Prince of Egypt?”

“No.”

“Heard the story of Passover?”

Lisa shrugged. “I got kicked out of Catholic school when I was 9.”

Bette raised her eyebrows. “Dang, remind me to hear that story. Anyway, Pharaoh wouldn’t let the Jews out of slavery in Egypt, so Moses brought down ten plagues. First one was turning the Nile River and all of the rest of the water in Egypt into blood.”

“Sounds vaguely familiar.”

“Pharaoh’s magicians tried to do the same thing and pulled it off, but they were a lot less powerful and they couldn’t reverse it. In the movie, they just dumped some powder in to make it seem like they could turn water to blood too. Faking divine abilities with sleight of hand to give Pharaoh confidence.”

“Are you going somewhere with this?”

“Well...we need to figure out if we’re dealing with the genuine article, or just some kooks playing with dehydrated blood. And why exactly. What is their goal? And will they strike again? Nobody is relying on Adams Pond for water or food or tourism. That makes me think it’s a demonstration.” 

“Possibly. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions yet,” Lisa cautioned, making a sharp right. 

Bette nodded. “Of course.”

“I still think your surface tension thing was full of shit,” Lisa said. 

“Hey, it’s more accurate than reading blood splatter patterns, and we still use that.”

“‘The police force does dumber things’ is not a valid argument, Kane!” Lisa said, rolling her eyes.

“Right, yeah, of course.” Bette said. “It was just to back up my hunch. Wasn’t going to go on it without the evidence from the lab anyway.”

Lisa nodded, taking a left down a street that was barely more than an alleyway. “We’re here,” she said. “State of the art crime lab.”

Lisa could swear that Bette subtly frowned for a moment. “Is D--is Wayne here? Or Grayson?” the rookie asked.

Lisa shrugged. “Dunno. Probably not.”

Bette grinned, her cheery demeanor immediately returning. Lisa began to think she’d only imagined its brief absence. “Right then.” She hopped out of the car and grabbed the cooler, then slammed the door shut and waved cheerily at Lisa.

Lisa sighed, grabbed her own cooler, and followed Bette inside the Wayne-funded crime lab.


	2. Chapter 2

It was noon when they arrived back at the precinct house after asking around the entire Adams Pond area and turning up basically nothing. The place was quiet: Dr. Tarr was asleep in his little room by the laboratory, and Lieutenant Weaver was finishing up the last of the paperwork for Corrigan’s resignation. Lisa took a seat at her desk and flipped through her notes as Bette logged in across from her.

“Got an email from forensics,” Bette said. Her eyes quickly scanned through it, then bobbed back up to meet Lisa’s. “We got good news and bad news. The bad news is that the DNA is too garbled to determine any one person.”

Lisa nodded. “That’s still something: it’s probably from multiple sources. And the good news?”

“We have a time frame. Decay aligns with it being about 12 hours before we collected it, so 8 pm yesterday.”

Lisa nodded as her pocket began to vibrate. She pulled out her phone and answered it with a swipe of her finger. “Detective Lisa Drake, Details Task Force, Precinct Thirteen. Can I help you?”

“I’m Sergeant Suarez. We’ve got your sort of case in Precinct Forty Nine. It’s...difficult to explain over the phone. We’ll explain it to you at the Old Gotham Morgue.”

“Alright,” Lisa said. She hung up and turned to Bette as she started the ignition. “We got a case from the four-nine. Gotta take a detour to the Old Gotham Morgue.”

Bette nodded. “We’ve got a new case, then?”

Lisa’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Yeah. We’re going to need to put in serious overtime on this.”

* * *

When they arrived at the morgue, a short Latino man with a badge hanging from a cord around his neck stood beside the front desk. He nodded to them in greeting.

Lisa strode up to him and held out her hand. “Sergeant Suarez? Lisa Drake and Bette Kane, Precinct Thirteen.”

He nodded, shaking her hand. “I won’t waste time trying to describe it. Just come on back.”

Suarez walked purposefully down a corridor, and Lisa and Bette hurried to keep up. Finally, he opened the door to a long room split by tall rolling metal shelves filled with opaque bins. A body lay under a sheet on the metal table, a lab tech arranging her tools on a small Shelf beside it. Bette couldn’t see much about the body besides its general shape.

Suarez cleared his throat, and the lab tech turned. 

“Oh! Are you the freak detectives?” The lab tech asked. She was pale, both by nature and, Bette suspected, with stress. Her face quickly reddened. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long night and, well, you’ll see.” She gestured for Bette and Lisa to come closer and pulled back the sheet from the body’s torso.

It was a man, white, somewhere between twenty and forty by Bette’s estimation. Bette began her cursory examination with his arms. They had several long scratches on them, but they didn’t appear to be deep enough or made by a tool sharp enough to draw blood. His skin was pale, nearly as pale as hers before she applied her morning makeup. However, she couldn’t see his veins, which should have stood out like hers did. Her brow furrowing, she shifted her gaze to his face.

His eyes were discolored by death and exposure to air, frozen wide in panic. He appeared to be gasping for air, his mouth thrown open. A year ago, Bette might have shuddered at the sight.

“He died quickly,” the lab tech said. “The scratches, those are self-inflicted. But the real question is what happened to his blood.”

“His blood?” Lisa repeated.

“Him and his friends all have no blood in their veins. No discernible wounds that could’ve caused rapid exsanguination. A-also,” the lab tech said, turning over one of his arms to reveal no-longer-blue veins under the skin, “all of their veins are full of what seems like muddy water on initial analysis, although we’ll have more specific results soon.” The lab tech’s voice shook, and Bette felt a pang of sympathy for her. “That’s why the Sergeant called you.”

“So that’s what’s wrong with his arms,” Bette whispered.

Lisa stepped closer to the body, her lips pressed tightly together. Bette watched her as her eyes followed the man’s veins from his hands up his arms. “When did he die?” Lisa asked.

“We pegged time of death between eight and eight-ten pm yesterday.”

Bette’s eyes widened, and she could tell from how Lisa stiffened that she’d had the same thought.

“Where’d the blood go?” Lisa said aloud.

“What?” The lab tech asked. “I told you, we--”

“I was talking to Kane.” Lisa’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think--”

“--we’re not working two cases after all?” Bette finished.

Lisa rapped her black fingernails on the table, producing a sequence of quiet metallic clangs that made the lab tech grimace.

Nodding, Lisa turned her back on the body and met Bette’s eyes.

“It’s a blood transfusion from hell!” Bette murmured.

“What?” Lisa said, startled out of the moment. “I...fine, you could say that. Is there any way we can verify whether the water in their veins is from a certain source?” Lisa asked the lab tech.

“Probably,” the lab tech said. “We can test the unique makeup of the water: bacteria, chemicals...”

“Do we have samples from Adams Pond pre-bloodening?” Bette asked.

Lisa grimaced. “No.”

The lab tech jumped, then shook her head. “Not in a way that would stand up in court.”

Bette frowned briefly, then determinedly lifted her expression into one of appropriate gratitude. “Thank you for your help, ma’am,” she said to the lab tech. 

“Sorry for calling you freak detectives,” the lab tech said, blushing slightly less than last time.

Bette laughed lightly. “It’s fine.” _It’s true._

* * *

Lisa shook her head, tossing the dollar store calculator onto the desk. (Jim always broke the fancy ones. He still broke these, but it was less money to replace). “The math doesn’t check out. In order to fill the pond, there’d need to be hundreds of victims. We’ve only found nineteen.”

“All involved in the prescription drug trade,” Bette said, glancing up from the stack of files and profiles she was finishing off. “All but one having prior indictments.”

“Any ties to the mob?” Lisa asked.

Bette shrugged. “Don’t think so. I’ll verify, check some sources to make sure. They seem pretty small-time.”

“We still need to figure out where all the blood came from,” Lisa said. “The nineteen dealers aren’t even close to enough to fill a pond.” 

“Can you use your power to figure out if the people it’s from are dead?” Bette asked hopefully.

“Don’t you think I’d have thought of that?” Lisa snapped. She shook her head. “It’s not that precise.”

“Bummer.” Bette glanced at the clock. “Hey, it’s getting near time to go home, and Helena’s gonna kill me if I miss her dinner again. She’s making her famous linguini. We working overtime or not?”

Lisa jiggled the mouse to dispel the screensaver bubbles floating across the monitor. “No. Go home. There’s nothing new for you here.”

Standing up, Bette grabbed her coat and nodded. “Thanks, Lees.”

“ _Drake_.”

“But I already know a Drake!”

“You think you’re the only Kane I know?”

A pained expression crossed Bette’s face. “You didn’t date my cousin, did you?” 

“Bruce? Ew, no!” Lisa glanced to the left. “Oh. I didn’t date her, either.”

Bette grinned. “Alright!” She slipped her badge over her head and into her bag. “See you tomorrow, bright ‘n early!”

“See you tomorrow,” Lisa echoed. She watched until Bette was out of sight, then sighed and clicked open Jim Corrigan’s file on the computer.

She stood up, the chair shrieking on the metal floor. She started, her heart pounding. Her eyes found her own name without her even thinking to. 

_Partner: Det. Lisa Drake._

Lisa closed her eyes, resting her hands on the desk. With a small, bitter smile, she closed the file and logged off the computer. A minute later, the room was empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I promised domestic Betteinelli but this got really long so I decided to go ahead and post it. That is coming, I promise--it's hinted at in this bit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bette and Helena have Charlie over for dinner, and Bette finds a new strategy for door duty.

“I’m home!” Bette announced as she stepped through the door of their apartment. She angled her head so she could see into the kitchen, catching a glimpse of Helena’s dark hair through the door frame.

“Finally!” Helena said. “Rough day?” 

Bette set down her bag on the side table and waltzed into the kitchen. “Not too bad. We got a new case down by Adams--” she stopped as she saw a redheaded teenage girl strolled in from the dining room. “Charlie’s already here?”

Helena nodded.

“I’m helping her set the table,” Charlie explained. “It keeps me out of the kitchen,” she added with an exaggerated pout.

Bette grinned and raised an eyebrow at Helena, who rolled her eyes and continued to toss the pasta in its sauce.

A few minutes later, Bette and Charlie sat silently at the table as Helena quietly said a blessing. She crossed herself and looked up, nodding to Bette. Bette grabbed the bowl of linguine, scooped some onto her own plate, and passed it to Charlie.

“So, how was school?” Bette asked.

“Are you talking to me or Charlie?” Helena asked, taking the bowl from Charlie’s outstretched hands.

“Both. Either.”

“I collected the essays I assigned last week. That girl I told you about went three pages over the suggested limit again.” 

“Have you talked to her?”

“Yes, but I made the mistake of not making a maximum. I’ll do it next time. For now I guess I’ll just stay up later.” Helena sighed and ran a hand through her straightened hair. 

“How about you, Charlie?” Bette asked, turning to the teen.

Charlie froze, a piece of linguine dangling from her lips. She sucked it in with a dramatic slurp, took a sip of water, coughed, and said, “It was pretty boring.”

“The real drama came after school,” Helena said, her eyebrows raised and the tiniest hint of a knowing smirk on her lips.

Charlie smiled sheepishly. “Uh, yeah. I got in a fight with Lori after school. She was knocking around a couple guys--I mean, they’re douchebags--”

Helena cleared her throat.

“--sorry, jerks, but she was really messing ‘em up. So I tried to talk her down and she got pissed off at me.” 

“You stayed civilian, right?” Bette asked.

“Of course. No ‘porting, just fists.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why Oracle lets her stick around.”

Bette shrugged. “It’s a free country. Nobody controls the vigilantes in Gotham, ‘else none of us would be in the business.”

Charlie twirled more linguine on her fork. “I guess.”

“I distinctly remember Oracle trying to force you out,” Helena said.

“Yeah, but she came around!” Charlie protested.

“And the team’s much stronger for her doing so,” Helena said.

Charlie’s head perked up. “Really?”

“Really.”

Charlie beamed with pride, biting her lip in a vain attempt to rein it in.

“You need any help grading papers later, Drake gave me the night off and we’re not gonna make any breaks before tomorrow morning.” Bette offered, addressing Helena.

“Thanks, but it’s essays. I have to grade those myself.” 

“Fair enough,” Bette said, standing up and grabbing her empty plate. “I’ll get the dishes. Do you have a ride home, Charlie?”

Charlie shook her head. “I can teleport, remember?”

“Don’t let anybody see you,” Helena warned. 

Charlie rolled her eyes. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Watch it,” Helena lightly swatted Charlie on the arm with her hand. 

Charlie raised her arms. “I’m going, I’m going, just let me put my dishes in the sink.” She smiled at Bette as she strode through the doorway. “Thanks for dinner, guys.”

“Anytime,” Bette said. “It was a pleasure.”

“It was delicious, Miss H,” Charlie said, setting down her plate with a clink that made everyone cringe. “Whoops. Sorry.”

“Is it broken?”

“No.”

“You’re fine then.” Helena glanced at the clock. “Get on home, Charlie, I know you’ve got homework.”

Charlie vanished in a puff of pink smoke. 

“You’re really getting to like her, aren’t you?” 

“Do you think I’d invite her over for dinner if I didn’t?” Helena said, allowing the fond tone to slip into her voice.

Bette shrugged. “Babs could’ve made you.”

“Babs isn’t dumb enough to force me to be friendly when I don’t want to be. Besides, she probably thinks I’m a bad influence.” 

Bette rested her chin on Helena’s shoulder and wrapping her arms around her girlfriend. “Nah, Babs doesn’t think you’re that bad. It’s just her job to judge you, as team leader and all that.”

Helena cradled Bette’s cheek, gently stroking her hair. “It’s a bat thing, isn’t it.”

“Yeah.”

“Mm.” Helena yawned and shrugged out of Bette’s embrace. “Better go work on those papers.”

“Yeah. G’night.” Bette kissed Helena’s cheek and headed for their bedroom.

“Goodnight.”

* * *

The next morning, Bette awoke before Helena and snuck out of bed to the closet. Carefully, she removed the folded gold and red costume from the top shelf and slipped out of the room. She quickly pushed the gum, sunglasses, makeup, hand sanitizer, wallet, lighter, lipstick switchblade, bandage scarf, and other necessities in her purse to the side and placed the Flamebird costume at the bottom. A brief shake later, the costume was hidden once again.

A short drive later, she strode into Precinct 13. 

Lisa stood up when she saw her enter. “It’s early enough people probably haven’t left for work yet around the site of the deaths in the four-nine. Let’s move.”

Bette glanced around, shifting to hold her purse by the bottom instead of the strap. “Listen, uh, Le--Drake. I’ve been thinking. Inner Gotham isn’t too big on talking to the GCPD.”

“Unfortunate, but unavoidable.”

“Well, see, I was thinking. I’ve been in that neighborhood before. As… you know…”

Lisa’s eyes widened. “No. Unh unh.” She crossed her arms in front of her rapidly. “We are not doing this. We are doing this by-the-book.”

“What the heck is our book? The Necronomicon?” Bette swung her hand out in question, leaving her bag swinging from her forearm. “Look, it’s Gotham. The Bats are legitimate leads.”

“ _You_ said you wanted to do this as a ‘real cop,’ not a civilian,” Lisa crossed her arms. “Not a vigilante, not a zombie ghost whatever.” 

“I mean, I’m still going to be a ‘zombie ghost whatever’ no matter what,” Bette said. “It’s a species, not an occupation.” She sat down on the desk, spinning the chair so she could rest one foot on it. “Listen, I’m not excited about this--”

“Bullshit, you were always the most enthusiastic vigilante ever.” 

“Yeah, and then I died!” Bette snapped back. “Look, if I helped these people as a cop, then I’d go back there in uniform and say ‘hey I’m Officer Bette Kane, I helped get your kids back, can you please help me save more kids.’ But I didn’t. I helped them as Flamebird. So I either go back as Flamebird, or take my chances as a cop from the ever-popular GCPD.”

Lisa tilted her head, her bobbed hair skimming her chin on one side and her shoulder on the other. Finally, she sighed. “Fine. Suit up. But we’re going separately.”

Bette nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Bette grabbed her bag and hurried to the bathroom as calmly as she could. As soon as the door closed, she pumped her fist and whispered, “YES!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "How does I do the romance?"  
> -a very confused aroace


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bette and Lisa canvas the neighborhood, seeking answers and witnesses.

Bette agreed to take the apartments east of the crime scene where the bloodless drug dealers had been found, with Lisa taking those to the west. While neither explicitly labeled it a competition, it definitely was to Bette: Flamebird vs the GCPD for the hearts of Gotham. 

Bette adjusted her mask and knocked on the first apartment’s door.

The door swung open a few seconds later, revealing a red-haired man in sweats with his arms crossed across his chest. He eyed Bette with an expression disturbingly reminiscent of Cameron Chase. “Halloween isn’t for a few months, sweetheart.” He had a strong Gotham accent, part Jersey City, part New York City, part something uniquely Gotham. 

“Sir, my name is Flamebird, can I ask you a few questions about what happened the night before last around 8 pm?”

The man scowled at her. “Fuck do I know or care?”

“Well, there’s been suspicious activity and--”

The man barked a laugh and moved to close the door. “It’s Gotham, sweetheart.” 

Bette let him close the door, rolled her shoulders back, and stepped over to the next apartment.

 

Several more doors down, Bette finally hit paydirt. She recognized the woman who answered the door, as well as the little boy hiding behind her ankles. 

“Silvia?” Bette said in surprise.

Silvia Flores’ eyes widened. “What are you doing here? Is _she_ back?” She asked, her voice low and panicked. She lay a hand on her son’s head, as if reassuring herself that he was still there.

“No!” Bette said hurriedly. “No, I just needed to ask you about a case.”

Silvia relaxed slightly, still wary.

“Did you hear anything two nights ago around eight pm?” Bette continued. “We have reason to believe that there were crimes of a mystical nature committed in the vicinity.”

Silvia crouched down to her son and told him to go play in Spanish. Straightening again, she looked from side to side before she spoke. “I heard shouting. Many voices together, like a crowd. They said something about the wrath of God.” She crossed herself nervously. 

“Did you hear anything else?”

Silvia’s brow furrowed. “There was screaming and a sound like thunder.”

“Did the voice say anything else?”

“No…” She gently tapped on the doorframe in contemplation. “Wait. They mentioned someone called Val.”

“Madre, who are you talking to?” called the voice of a teenage girl.

“No one you should worry about, Adriana!” Silvia shouted back. 

“How is Adriana?” Bette asked.

Silvia sighed and waved her hand dismissively.

“Thank you, Ms. Flores.” Bette said, sensing it was best she take her leave. She stepped away from the door. “I hope you and your children have a wonderful day.”

 

Bette met Lisa back at the car.

“Any luck?” Bette asked.

Lisa shook her head. “You?”

“Well, looks like we know who Gotham trusts,” Bette preened.

“Just say what it is, Bette,” Lisa said. “You’re the only one making this a competition.”

“Fine. There was a chorus of voices that mentioned ‘the wrath of God’ and someone named ‘Val.’”

Lisa’s hands clenched on the steering wheel, turning her knuckles whiter than usual.

“Uh...you good?”

Lisa slouched, staring up at the ceiling of the car. “That lying, two-faced, self-serving son of a bitch.”

“Uh, Lisa?” Bette snapped her fingers in front of Lisa’s face. “Mind filling me in?”

Lisa straightened, rolling her head to face Bette. “I already suspected it from the MO, but this pretty much confirms it. We’re facing the Spectre again.” She slumped forward, her head resting on the wheel. “And I have no idea how the hell we’re going to be able to take him down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to Flamebiirds, who is responsible for many, many spelling errors by virtue of her username being stuck in my head as the spelling for that name. I hope you feel better.


	5. Chapter 5

Lisa paced the office, rubbing her throat as if checking if something was wrong with her tonsils. Bette scanned through old files as casually as she could.

“So, what’s our plan for taking him down?” Bette said as perkily as she could under the circumstances.

Lisa’s hand sank from her chin to fiddle with her choker, sliding its circular charm from side to side. “I...I don’t know.”

Bette breathed in as deeply as she could while (hopefully) avoiding Lisa hearing it. “Okay. The Spectre is Jim Corrigan, right? Formerly of this precinct?”

Lisa nodded.

“Do you think that’ll help at all?” Bette asked.

Lisa let go of the choker, slumping into her chair and flopping her arms into her lap. “Maybe. If he loses control and the Spectre comes out, though, we’re all dead.”

“Great. Good to know there’s no consequences if we screw up,” Bette said sarcastically. “So...what makes him lose control?”

“Evil,” Lisa said immediately. “Paranormal stuff, mostly. But also personal threats to the precinct…” Lisa rolled the chair to directly face Bette. “He--we--came under police investigation before. Two officers ended up dead. Good officers who were doing their job, making sure we weren’t murderers.” Lisa stared off into the distance. “I don’t want to put you or anyone else in harm’s way by trying to apprehend him without a plan.”

Bette noticed Lisa didn’t include herself in the list of people at risk. “Are the people he knew exceptions?”

“We have the best chance, yes, but even then,” Lisa’s hands returned to the choker, “where would we keep him? We can’t isolate him from everyone but me and Dr. Tarr! And he’s powerful enough to break out of wherever we put him!”

“I’ll put Dr. Tarr on it,” Bette said. “Thanks for reminding me.”

Lisa threw her head back. “Kane, we can’t go into this half-cocked, alright? We need to be prepared. Clear end goal and method to achieve it.”

“What if we only questioned him?” Bette asked.

“Last time he lost it was in questioning,” Lisa said darkly. “Don’t think he’d take too kindly to an interrogation room.” She shuddered.

“Casual, then. We drive out to wherever he’s staying, you ask him a few questions, friend to friend, and if he’s still our prime suspect we’ll call backup.”

“From whom?”

Bette threw her hands up. “The JLA? JSA? Green Lanterns? Birds of Prey? I think there are some magic people on the Justice League. Fuck, I think there’s a kid who sold his soul to a demon on the Teen Titans now.”

“He did what?”

“Sold his soul to Neron for powers. It was a...questionable decision.”

“How do you know that?”

“Good buddy of mine is friends with him and his mentor.” 

Bette couldn’t suppress a smile at the thought of Gar’s midnight drunk phone call where he slurred about how he was just the funny guy, he never asked for this, everyone on his team was an absolute dumbass and he suddenly had so much more empathy for Robin being a dick all the time, but seriously _who_ sells anything to Neron?! That’s like, magic, nah, _life_ 101, “don’t make deals with demons,” and the only person who pulled it off was Constantine, and that dude was creepy and everyone who liked him died and the only person who still hung out with him was Zatanna, and even then she couldn’t stand him half the time--

She twitched her hand to dismiss the memory. “The _point_ is, there’s definitely backup we can call. Probably even more backup I can call.” 

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Yes, I get it, you were a superhero and you were great. You never mention it.”

“Aw, thanks!” Bette said, ignoring the sarcasm. 

Lisa stood up. “So, new plan: I question him while wearing a wire. You stay here and if anything happens, you call in the big guns.”

Bette nodded seriously. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“Says the woman who’s literally dead.”

“Hmm, maybe I should come with.”

“No, stay here. I don’t want to spook him.”

Bette cracked a smile. “Heh. Good one.”

Lisa blinked. 

“Wait, did you not intend that? ‘Cause that was genius if you meant it, because like, I’m a ghoul, and you don’t want me to…” Bette trailed off. “Yeah, Harley’s right, explaining the joke never works.”

Lisa shook her head. “See you later, Kane.”

“You better,” Bette said sternly. _Seriously, come back safe_ , she considered tagging on. But Lisa was already nearly gone, and she didn’t want to rattle her partner any more than necessary with yet another reminder she might not return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know I keep making the number of chapters longer. The thing is, I have an outline! It’s just sometimes chapters end up longer than I expect so I chop them down. There is a plan here, trust me, it’s not just gonna keep adding one extra chapter into infinity.
> 
> Shoutout to y’all! My loyal readers. I hope you’re enjoying this incredibly niche little story, however you came across it.
> 
> And, Maeve, if you’re reading this (and lbr, there’s only like 6 people total reading this) you’re a sweetheart and even though idk details, I hope everything gets better for you.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from a YouTube comment on the discussed scene from The Prince of Egypt.
> 
> Y'all need to stop sleeping on Lisa Drake. Clearly the solution to this is pairing her up with extremely well known and popular character Bette Kane.


End file.
